


untouchable

by LittleQueenTrashMouth, tashii



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Post-Canon, warning: messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleQueenTrashMouth/pseuds/LittleQueenTrashMouth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashii/pseuds/tashii
Summary: With their relationship struggling, Aang and Katara embark on a mission to the Earth Kingdom that sees them teaming up with Azula. Unresolved tensions soon bubble to the surface.
Relationships: Aang/Azula (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 121





	1. blue fire

**Author's Note:**

> This idea for this fic comes from this frame of the comics, where Katara claims that her and Aang are perfectly happy and Azula calls them idiots. Because Nat (tashii) and I have azulaang brainrot, we developed this post-canon AU where Katara and Aang's relationship has been on the rocks for a while, but neither of them can admit that they need to break up. However, a mission in the Earth Kingdom where they have to team up with post-redemption Azula brings up all kinds of tension and FEELINGS between the three of them. 
> 
> Because we can't help ourselves, Nat and I started writing little snippets of this AU and posting it on tumblr. People seemed to like them, so we've decided to share them with AO3. Neither of us have the time to fully flesh out the story, so each chapter will be one of those snippets that all loosely fit together. They might not all be chronological, but we'll try to explain where each one fits in the timeline. This first chapter was written by me (LittleQueenTrashMouth). I hope yall enjoy!

Though Azula would never admit it, the Avatar was an exceptional firebender. It was hard to believe that he learned most of it from Zuko. He moved fluidly between katas, light on his feet, dancing in and out of her range. Sweat glistened on his bare chest and dripped down his temple, and he broke form to swipe one hand across his forehead. Azula took advantage of the distraction to lash out with a wave of blue fire. Aang brought his hands in front of his face to redirect the flames to either side of him, turning them orange as they left her control. He winced imperceptibly, and Azula held up one hand to call for a ceasefire.

“Are you okay, Aang?” Katara called anxiously from the sidelines. Azula resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the waterbender’s meddling. 

“He would be, if he weren’t so sloppy,” Azula barked, closing the distance between her and Aang. “That amateurish form is going to get you killed.” This statement was aimed at the Avatar himself, who was rubbing the burns on the outer edge of his hand. His move would probably have been good enough for any other firebender’s flames, but Azula’s fire required far more precision and perfection to redirect. 

“Here, you need to keep your arms and hands further out from your body,” Azula explained, maneuvering Aang’s limbs herself. Sensing the waterbender’s steely glare, Azula allowed her hands to linger on Aang’s biceps, moving languidly down his forearms and to his hands. Her fingers brushed against his palm, and she could have sworn she felt him shiver beneath her. “Much better,” she concluded, leaving her own hands on his for just a second too long. 

“Thanks, sifu,” Aang said cheerfully, earning an involuntary smile from Azula. He grinned back at her, fully meeting her gaze in that intense, sincere way that made her feel like they were the only people in the world. His eyes flickered over her head and Azula was rudely brought back to reality by the waterbender sweeping past her, tugging Aang around until he was facing away from Azula. Katara’s insecurity was amusing, but also deeply frustrating, for reasons Azula really didn’t feel like analyzing. Nor did she particularly feel like contemplating the thrill that shot through her at seeing her lightning scar on Aang’s lower back.

“Let me help with that,” Katara murmured, drawing water from the flask at her hip and settling her hands in Aang’s. The water began to glow, and Aang sighed blissfully, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Azula’s jaw tightened. 

Katara returned the water to the flask, but didn’t return to her place as a spectator. Instead, she ran her hands across Aang’s chest and down his stomach, stopping below the waistline of his pants. She leaned in towards him and he met her halfway, catching her lips in a kiss. Katara moaned, then whispered something that sounded like “ _Be more careful._ ” Azula fidgeted, suddenly feeling awkward and irritated, as the waterbender deepened the kiss, moving her hands around to Aang’s back. Her heart jumped as Aang’s own hands went to cradle Katara’s face, tender and gentle, at odds with the way that Katara seemed to be attempting to devour Aang from the mouth down.

Azula’s inner flame roared as Katara met her eyes over Aang’s shoulder, and smirked.


	2. territory

Noticing his hesitance, Katara stops. “What’s wrong?”

He gently holds her hands. “It’s not that I don’t want to - I _want_ to - but we’ve barely touched each other all month...,”

Katara’s tugging on his pants, her voice husky and urgent. Not so long ago, all she had to do was say his name in that voice and Aang would melt in her hands. “Then we should make up for lost time,” she whispers sultrily in his ear. 

“Would you still be all over me if Azula wasn’t here?” 

The words land like ice water. Katara gives him a deadly look. “What?”

He can’t take it back, and even if he could- Aang can’t bear for their intimacy to be veiled in dishonesty. Despite everything he still loved Katara too much for that. 

“I’m just saying that before we started this mission, you and I weren’t in a good place. We haven’t really talked, but a few days of Azula being Azula and you want me every night. It feels -,”

“What?” Katara spits, moving away and snapping her blouse back into place.

“Like you’re trying to prove something,” Aang says, quietly.

Katara’s laugh is sharp and unkind. “Oh please. If anyone’s trying to prove something to Azula, it isn’t me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Don’t act obtuse, Aang. All your little gestures. _Azula, let me help you with that. Azula, are you comfortable on Appa? Hey Azula, want me to build your tent and make your bed? Want me to tuck you in_?” Katara’s beautiful face is twisted and sneering. Cold horror freezes Aang in place, before his own temper, outraged and shocked, flares in defense.

“How could you think -I’m just trying to help! She’s not an earthbender, and she’s not used to camping like we are -”

“Whatever, Aang. Just forget it.” She drags the bedroll to the other side of the tent and lies down, facing away from him, breathing hard. 

“Katara, we’re not finished talking-,”

“Goodnight, Aang.”

He flushes in shame. All those times he had extended a hand both literal and figurative to their former enemy, had gone out of his way to make Azula feel at ease so that this mission would succeed and he and Katara can have time to themselves again - feel stupid now. _He_ feels stupid. Maybe Katara’s right, and Azula’s playing a game with them. Those moments he’d earned a smile or a laugh from the Fire Princess are suddenly colored red. A dark mist fills his brain, obscuring any hope of clarity, but instead of walking off into the cool night air, instead of meditating, Aang covers the distance between him and Katara. He grabs her shoulder and rolls her onto her back. The dangerous glint in her eyes goes straight to his cock. Katara glares, still furious with him, but also fiercely aroused. Her chest heaves against her cotton _sarashi_ andhe can see the hard outline of her nipples. “Let’s not talk, then,” he says hoarsely. Aang pulls the cloth off her breasts and covers her mouth in a rough kiss.

* * *

“Pull my hair. _Harder_.”

His fingers, already tangled in Katara’s lush waves, need only tighten, and tug. She makes a desperate, keening moan. Aang bites the dusky curve of her throat and she bucks against him, her walls gripping him like a vice. Dark red bruises bloom along her neck and shoulder, but he’s not unscathed. Katara’s nails are furrowing up and down his back, dragging cruelly over the scar she’s usually careful not to touch. Like she could erase all traces of Azula from their lives. His skin sings in exquisite agony. He doesn’t want to think or find clarity. He wants to spend himself in Katara until they’re both too exhausted to lift a finger. Katara cries his name, high and clear.

She’s been riding his lap, but now they tumble to the ground. He moves messy and frenzied between her legs, chasing release. When he can no longer bear her clawing Aang pins her wrists roughly to the floor. Katara pants in excitement, eyes flashing dark. “Come on,” she urges, still angry, still sharp. Close to the edge, the intoxicating fog suddenly clears and Aang glimpses the truth, brief and shining white. Katara _is_ using him to prove a point to Azula. But he’s thinking of Azula too. He had _enjoyed_ helping her, enjoyed her company, her barbs, the sidelong glance of her eyes. If he touched the ground beneath their blankets now, he’d feel Azula lying in the tent next to theirs, hearing Katara moan his name, hearing him fuck her.

He groans and slams into his climax, hand twisted in Katara’s hair to keep from brushing the earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's weekend :3 We appreciate any and all kudos and comments, or you can come yell at us at on Tumblr @irresitible-revolution or @praetorqueenrenya xoxox Thanks for the support! - tashii


	3. careful

He either hasn’t seen her or doesn’t care. Sheltered in the roots of the tree, Azula watches him crouch by the water’s edge to bathe his face. It’s still early enough that mist hovers above the ground. Katara was a late riser as a rule, and Azula’s certain her and Aang’s little tryst from the night before that she had no choice but to overhear has ensured the waterbender is fast asleep. 

She sips her tea and waits for Aang to notice her, but he only sets down his bar of soap and begins peeling off his shirt. She really should say something. After Katara’s display during that sparring session, he strictly kept his shirt on at all times when outside his tent. And considering she’d been forced to listen to him and Katara rutting like ostrich horses in heat the night before, Azula considers evening the score by not revealing her position until he’s naked enough to be embarrassed. But thoughts of revenge vanish at the sight of his naked back. 

His scar - she’s possessive of the trace of the near-fatal wound she once delivered him- is almost obscured by livid red lines. Katara’s nail marks cover his back like angry rivers. Azula clears her throat loudly. 

Instead of startling, Aang stiffens.

“Azula, I didn’t see you there.” His voice, raspy from sleep, sounds oddly intimate. He sounds tired too. Distracted. Like the rousing night with Katara has drained him.

She can’t help it. Rising to her feet, Azula dusts off her _shenyi_ and keeps her voice cool, needling. “Rough night?” 

There’s a touch of defiance on his face. “Yeah. Something like that.” His chest too is marked with Katara’s touch. In the hazy morning light he looks not quite himself. More ethereal than human. Even a little dangerous. “Why? Did we wake you, princess?”

The shameless question disarms her. Because she ought to have been asleep already, not listening to their muted arguing. She should have turned over and stopped her ears with a pillow, left her tent to sleep by the trees at the first sound of their intimacy. But she’d lingered for a minute too long, hating herself and the heat in her veins. The side of Aang that surfaced when they sparred, the ferocity, the fire he showed no one else, Azula had always imagined it belonged to her. But the marks on his skin, the marks she knows Katara will also sport when she emerges from her tent, are a cold reminder of how little claim she has to any part of the Avatar. 

“As a matter of fact, you did.” She takes refuge in disdain, eyeing him with all the hauteur at her command.

“Oh, sorry about that.” Only he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He continues undressing, stepping out of his trousers to stand naked in the silver sunlight. Her eyes rivet on the swirl of blue tattoos, the dark hair between his legs. He’s nude, but she’s the one who feels exposed.

“Careful,” she says softly. Aang’s smile, delicate and reckless, sends a frisson down her spine. For a moment it’s as if he’s savoring the knowledge of what she’d been privy to last night. Savoring the idea that he’d driven her from her bed. He looks on the brink of some wild, unthinkable deed, and she’s reminded that the Avatar has one foot in the Spirit World, and that there were stories of spirits haunting rivers and lakes who toyed with you as you drowned. Then the sun blinks, and Aang is turning away, his face neutral as he wades into the current. “I’ll see you back at camp, Azula.” 

_Careful._

She makes her way of out the woods. It’s no longer clear - if it ever was - whether the warning was meant for him, or herself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day :P


	4. the teacup

It seems to take longer to get back to their campsite than it took for Azula to walk down to the river’s edge. Her path is winding, unfocused, sinuous. She realizes with a start that she isn’t holding her teacup; she must have set it down by the water and forgotten to bring it with her. No matter, Aang will see it and bring it back with him after his bath.

Azula feels...odd. Both disconnected from her body, and all too aware of her surroundings. She can probably chalk it up to her restless night. The prickle of a branch against her hand as she sweeps it out of her face feels sharp and intense against her palm, but all she can see is Aang stepping out of pants, turning away from her to reveal Katara’s marks obscuring her own. She still cannot fully parse out the Avatar’s intentions with undressing in front of her, but she can’t help but feel that she was meant to see that.

Her mind wanders to the previous evening. There is no reason for her to have stayed in her tent, punishing herself with the sound of the couple’s lovemaking. She had laid stiff in her bedroll, thighs clenched together, refusing to alleviate the ache between her legs as she listened to the muffled grunts and moans coming from the next tent. Most of their words had been unintelligible, but Katara’s cries of pleasure had been all too clear.

_”Aang! Aang! Oh fuck! Aang!”_

A sudden splash of cold at her feet makes Azula look down, wrinkling her nose at the puddle she had inadvertently stepped in. She is suddenly filled with unspeakable, unfathomable rage, with no way to release it. She can’t create lightning or fire, at the risk of setting the forest ablaze. She can’t scream or cry, for both of her traveling companions were within earshot. 

She is greeted back at the camp by the sight of Katara ducking out of her tent, a robe loosely draped across her lithe form. Azula’s fury turns to despair. In the cold light of morning, with her wild waves of hair and flushed brown skin, the waterbender looks every bit as beautiful and ethereal as Aang had, stepping naked into the river.

“Good morning,” Katara greets her sleepily. There is none of the bite that Azula has come to expect, as though her previous night’s exertions have mellowed out her animosity.

“Morning.” Azula’s eyes are drawn to the purpling bruises on Katara’s exposed neck, the size and shape of the Avatar’s mouth. Katara catches her gaze and grins, predatory, under hooded eyes.

“Sorry, did we wake you?”

Azula’s pride leads her to lie. “No.”


	5. the teacup, ii

Emerging from the river, a faint white gleam catches his eye. Azula’s teacup, forgotten by the tree. The fine-turned porcelain is demure and incongruous on the forest floor. She treasured that cup. He’s seen it in her hands every morning and every night. It was a gift from Zuko, one of the few traces of her old life Azula still held onto. A few weeks ago, Aang would’ve thought nothing of simply picking up the porcelain and returned it to her at camp. But after last night, after this morning, touching anything that belonged to Azula feels dangerous.

The cup’s blue glaze and immaculate shine taunts him. Aang wraps it in a clean rag and treks back to camp, cementing determination over the miserable disquiet in his chest. _Enough_ , he thinks. Enough of this madness. He loved Katara, and had loved her for years. They could - they must - patch up the grooves and fissures that had opened between them, cracks that had slowly widened the past few years until these weeks with Azula had split them even deeper. He didn’t want to feel like this, spiraling out of control until he couldn’t trust himself around either woman. He hasn’t felt this unmoored since the war.

Katara is slicing fruit for their breakfast, humming as she works. Unlike him she appears contented and calm, happy for the first time in longer than he cares to think about.

“Good morning,” she says with a dazzling smile. “How was your bath?”

“Refreshing.” He bends to kiss the corner of her smile and she turns, kissing him warmly, the way she used to in the early days. Aang brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and his handiwork from the previous night comes into view, dull marks along her throat and neck. Even her wrists are circled with traces of his passionate grip. He straightens, letting her hair slip out of his fingers. 

It takes him a few minutes to reconcile Katara’s serene good mood with their strangely quiet camp.

“Azula’s gone,” she says, scooping papaya and lychee nuts into each of their bowls.

Aang glances at Azula’s tent, the entrance flap stirring in the breeze with an air of quiet desolation. “What do you mean gone?”

Katara gives him a wary look. “We have a saying in the South Pole. Never look a gift-whale in the mouth.” She retrieves a folded piece of paper and hands it to him. “She left while I was cleaning up.”

Aang unfolds the note, revealing Azula’s elegant script. She no longer wishes to impose on Katara and himself, it reads. She would travel ahead and collect information, then await them at the meeting spot. This way, their mission will be completed far more efficiently and conveniently. The words are so formal Aang half expects to find royal signia stamped onto the page. There’s nothing to betray the writer’s emotion, except faint smudges of ink in the corner. A few weeks ago, Aang would have thought nothing of it. Would have neither known nor cared that only acute turmoil would induce Azula’s sure fingers to slip.

“Aang?”

Katara, who had stopped eating to watch him peruse the note, is now looking closely at his feet. He follows her gaze to the collection of items he’d carried back from the river. A bar of soap, his razor, a towel, and among them, half hidden in the cloth he’d wrapped it in, the unmistakable gleam of Azula’s teacup. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I absolutely gone off the deep end of feelings over Aang finding Azula's abandoned teacup? MAYBE SO. I blame my co-conspirator! As always, comments and kudos are appreciated <3


	6. the candle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! This snippet has already been posted on my tumblr (@praetorqueenreyna). It takes place sometime between Chapters 1 and 2 of this fic. Enjoy!

“Azula, we need to talk.”

“I’m busy.” Azula didn’t open her eyes when the Avatar spoke, nor when he sat down beside her in the grass. She could sense his movement next to her, copying her lotus pose, wrists balanced loosely on the knees. A single candle was placed in front of her, and the flame flared and shrank in time with her breathing.

“I need you to stop antagonizing Katara.”

The candle flame streamed upwards, and Azula opened her eyes, mouth already set in a sneer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do.” Aang’s implacable, firm tone drove her insane. It was just on the border of being condescending. It made her feel like she had done something wrong. 

Azula switched tactics. “I thought your girlfriend would be able to stand up for yourself. Isn’t she the world’s greatest waterbender, or something like that?” Sarcasm dripped from every syllable, showing what she thought of Katara’s so-called prodigal skill.

“Oh, she absolutely can,” Aang answered with a fond chuckle, a flash of something (Jealousy? Anger? Guilt?) ran through Azula’s core. The candle flashed again. “And she didn’t ask me to talk to you.” Azula supposed that she already knew that; the waterbender was far too proud to send someone else to deal with her problems. “I care about her very much, and I don’t like that you purposely upset her. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Bitter bile rose in Azula’s throat, and she bit back a hurtful comeback. She looked over to Aang for the first time, noting that he was fully clothed despite it being the hottest part of the day. 

Again, Azula redirected. “Why don’t you tell her Highness to leave _me_ alone. She has hardly been a gracious traveling companion.”

“I already did.” The air seemed to be knocked out of Azula’s lungs, and the fire in front of her shrank until almost nothing. Dumbfounded, she stared at Aang, who had dropped the stern Avatar face to give her a genuine smile. In a single, smooth movement, he reached out and placed one hand on her forearm. His touch was light, but Azula felt a surge of electricity run through her at the contact.

“I don’t like what’s going on with you guys,” Aang continued. He pulled his hand away and instinctively glanced over his shoulder. Interesting. “We’re all on the same side. And…” he trailed off, pursing his lips, as though carefully considering his next words. “I don’t like being used to hurt either of you.” 

_Either of you._ Azula took a deep breath, fighting through the icicle that had lodged itself in her gut. All the fight seemed to leave her body, and she was left feeling cold. She couldn’t remember the last time somebody had fought for her like that. She never expected that from the Avatar, especially not him defending her against his own girlfriend.

“Fine,” she said shortly, returning to face forward, eyes closed. The candle steadily pulsed in front of her. 

Aang touched her once more, in the middle of her back, as he rose to his feet and walked back to camp.


	7. miscalculations

The three of them return to camp with little more than a few cuts and scrapes, but as soon as they're on solid ground, the tension that's built for weeks finally erupts. Katara puts herself in Azula's path with stern ferocity.

“You jeopardized everything! Months of hard work, weeks of tracking their movements and camping in the woods-,”

“Oh please," Azula drawls. "I apprehended the culprit and brought this insufferable endeavor to a needed conclusion-,”

“You had no idea if he would hurt the hostages, it was selfish and reckless-,”

“It was a calculated risk,” Azula snaps, her composure wearing thin.

“Then your counting skills need work. If Aang hadn’t got the hostages out they would’ve been killed in the explosion.”

“The Avatar was part of my calculation. Should I break it down into a simpler form?”

Katara opens and closes her mouth in anger. “Aang’s life is not a pai sho tile. But you don’t care do you? This is all some big game to you. Toying with people -,” she breaks off, furiously wiping tears. Aang, who’d stood off by the bison with a troubled look while the two of them argued, gently takes her elbow.

“Katara, come on. We’re all safe, the mission’s over.”

“How can you say that?” Katara scoffs. “Aang, what she did put all our lives in danger. As the Avatar it’s your responsibility to-,”

“To what?” He asks, softly. Weariness and impatience seems to make a faint dent in his calm.

“Yes, what is his responsibility here? We’re all dying to know,” Azula taunts.

“Azula,” Aang warns.

She flashes him a sharp look. “I'm not your bed-wench, Avatar. I don’t answer to you.”

Aang’s eyes glitter in the fading light. 

Katara stares hard at him. “Are you going to let her talk to us like that?”

“Katara, let’s just-,”

The waterbender pulls her hand away in cold fury. “Someone has to put her in her place,” she says, with a dangerous glint in Azula’s direction.

“I’d like to see you try,” Azula returns, fingers itching for lightning before Aang steps between them and silences the budding fight with a gust of wind that sweeps over their camp. His posture is less easy than usual, his own patience stretched to a breaking point, but in true airbender fashion he manages to diffuse the situation enough to convince Katara to return to their tent with him while Azula crouches down and touches the damp, grassy ground, pouring her pent up energy into the earth and swallowing a growl of frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back by (un?)popular demand lol! Sorry this is so short but we have a few juicy bits lined up coming soon, so stay tuned! As always, we appreciate any and all kudos and comments xoxo


	8. setting up camp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another flashback, set even before chapter 1. Enjoy!

Azula was on her tip-toes, straining to reach the top of her earth tent. The piece of fabric she was trying to pin to the peak of the tent slithered against her hands and fell to the ground. Determined, the firebender picked up the curtain and tried again, giving an undignified hop this time. Katara bit back a cruel sneer as the material once again puddled at Azula’s feet. She made no move to help the other woman. Instead, she smoothed down the cover across her and Aang’s tent, satisfied that it was attached tightly, and would allow no cold air in as they slept.

“Here Azula, let me help you with that.” Katara’s smugness drained away, giving way to wrath as Aang ambled past her, an easy grin on his face. She half-turned, pretending to busy herself with finishing the campsite preparations while straining her ears.

“I don’t need help,” Azula responded stiffly. Once more, she stretched to reach the top of her tent, and once more she failed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aang lean casually against the side of the tent, eyes glittering with amusement. Katara’s throat filled with bile at his affability, his unfailingly easygoing nature that always had everybody swooning over him. A less perceptive man would have snatched the curtain from Azula’s hands, insisting that he do it himself. Then Azula would snarl and rail against him, turning colder and colder to his advances.

Instead, _perfect_ Aang waited, giving unhelpful tips as Azula tried again and again. Finally, when she was tottering on the toes of one foot, still a good few inches from the top of the tent, he waved his hand and created a stone ledge under Azula’s feet. Azula yelped and fell forward, Aang burst out into laughter. And then, before Katara’s eyes....

A small smile on Azula’s face. Warmth and tenderness radiated from Aang as he stepped forward, holding one end of the cloth out. When Azula took it from him, their hands brushed together, and Aang’s entire body stiffened. Katara’s eyes were slits as Azula finished prepping her tent, exchanging snappy remarks with Aang. _Katara’s_ Aang.

Katara considered herself a reasonable woman. Though she wasn’t thrilled about all the _attention_ that Aang got, she knew he couldn’t help it. He was the Avatar, and the last airbender. His name and face were known across the entire world. What bothered her more was that he entertained these flirtations, even as strange women stroked his arms and batted their eyes at him. And that was with her present; she shuddered to think what people did when the world’s greatest waterbender _wasn’t_ around her boyfriend. 

Aang never quite seemed to understand why she was disgruntled. _”I’m yours,”_ he would murmur into her ear as he held her close, both of them trembling in the aftershocks of their lovemaking. _”I’m yours, forever.”_

Katara, stupidly, believed him. Even as the cracks in their relationship grew, even when they fought more often than not, even when she screamed until she was hoarse. Aang would be her’s, forever, until she didn’t want him anymore. A part of her knew it wasn’t honorable to think that way, but she did. Sometimes it was the only thing keeping her from ripping apart at the seams. The knowledge that, when she wanted to, she could sever the tie between them and move on with her life.

She never imagined that Aang would be able to do the same to her.

By her tent, Azula laughed, a screeching harpy’s call. She had finally finished securing the cloth to the top of her tent, with the helpful boost of the stone ledge Aang had made for her. Aang was now attempting to undo all of Azula’s work, unclipping the material from the top and sides of the tent. Azula was scrambling to fix what Aang was playfully breaking; their arms flashed, intertwining, blue arrows contrasting against creamy bare skin. He was calling Katara’s name now, warning her to check their own tent, because there was clearly something wrong with Azula’s. 

Katara’s jaw clenched as she smiled, cheerful in a way she did not feel. She made her way over to Aang and wrapped her arm around his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder. Azula’s lighthearted smile faded, and she shifted backwards off the step, distancing herself from Aang. 

_Mine,_ Katara spoke through her hawkish gaze as Aang pulled her close against him, kissing the top of her head. _He’s mine._

Even then, Katara knew that it wasn’t true anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy International Women's Day!


	9. ignite

He just needs to think. Clear his head. He’s fought with Katara before, been frustrated, angry, sometimes disappointed. But he’s never rejected her, emotionally or physically. There was never a time when she’s reached for him with her hands or her heart that he’s turned her away. Never a time when he simply wasn’t in the mood. He didn’t imagine it was possible to do anything but love Katara with all his being, to give her whatever she asked for. The shock and hurt on her face when he’d left their tent without making love her- the world has ended and begun for him many times over, but this time - this time he doesn’t know what’s on the other side-

Azula’s perched under his favorite tree, reading a heavy tome with her finger for a candle. If he were in a better mood he would admire the skill and precision of her flame, how delicate yet radiant it is, how it’s held just far enough to avoid burning the pages, but close enough to help her read. Instead, the sight of her brings a wave of wordless, twisted frustration.

“Azula, do you mind giving me a moment alone?”

Undeterred, she turns another page. “The woods are vast, Avatar.”

“I prefer this spot. Please.” His voice strains with the effort to sound polite and calm.

She snaps her book close, her flame flickering hot before its extinguished. She rises smoothly, and the hauteur of her lithe silhouette infuriates him further. Still, he would have held his peace if she held hers. “And I prefer to read in my tent, but you and Katara’s constant squabbling left me no choice.”

He explodes. “What is wrong with you? I have been nothing but nice, and polite, and respectful, this whole trip! Do you realize how hard that’s been, Princess?”

“How charitable,” she sneers. “Should I get down on my knees? Sing the praises of the mighty and benevolent Avatar? Is that what you want?”

Aang growls. At some point, he’s grabbed her elbow and backed her into the tree. Strangely, she doesn’t burn his hand off. This is reckless and wrong and he should stop now before it’s too late, but it feels so good - too good - to unleash his frustration on this woman who, somehow, is threatening to crash his world down around him for the second time. “You know that’s not it. You _know_ what I’m saying is right. But you would do anything, instead of admit-,”

“Admit what? Go ahead and say it-,”

Aang glares down at her, her flashing eyes, her red lips. He didn’t want to argue. To say any of the cold, hurtful things battering his chest. He wants to silence her sharp tongue with his mouth. To pour out his anger and loneliness and want at this maddening, awful creature who wouldn’t leave his thoughts. The realization unmoors him. He could march back to his tent and fuck Katara until she’s too hoarse to speak above a whisper, and it wouldn’t matter. Azula would still persist, a flame that needed no fuel. Katara was right. He had feelings for Azula. And those feelings swirl inside his head so strongly he can barely think. Azula’s golden eyes blow wide. She’s breathing hard, just like him. The sudden truth of what they both want freezes them in place, oblivious to Katara’s footsteps until the waterbender stands behind them. 

Her voice, too hurt for anger, too cold for rage, hits Aang like a thunderclap. “I thought I’d find you here.” 

The world ends again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you guys are enjoying the ride! This was actually the first snippet I posted on Tumblr and we haven't looked back since lol. As always, we welcome any and all kudos and comments! xoxo


	10. aftermath

This time, words and a gust of wind don’t suffice to quell the erupting violence. The three of them cut a swathe through the undergrowth - Katara and Azula aiming deadly strikes of water and fire, Aang trying to intervene without hurting either of them - leading down to the riverbanks where Katara uses every advantage. Sleeping animals, frightened by the blasts of blue fire and whips of water, scurry from boughs and burrows and scatter far from the fight.

Aang leaps forward, grabbing Azula’s wrist and jerking it away from Katara just as the lightning bursts from her fingers, striking a treetop that comes crashing down. They roll out of the way and when Aang rises he sees Katara, silhouetted in the light of the full moon, the river swirling around her in deadly tentacles, advancing on Azula. “Katara, stop! This isn’t you!”

He knows the words are a mistake as soon as they leave his mouth, though he isn’t certain why until his hands freeze to his sides, his limbs stiff and jerking out of his control. Katara’s fingers clench in the moonlight and bring him to his knees. “Here,” she says with awful serenity. “Is this what you want? I can be cold-blooded too. Is this what you _like_ , Aang?”

Through a web of paralyzing pain he looks at Katara’s tear-stained face, the smile trembling at the corner of her mouth. He tries to move his tongue, to form her name, managing only a strangled whisper.

Katara releases him with a start, drawing back her own hand as though it’s acted without her will. He collapses on the muddy ground, gasping for breath. There’s a glimmer of movement in the corner of his eye, Azula trying to gauge whether he can stand. Whatever spell of anger and chaos had entangled them seems to vanish and the river returns to its banks, leaving the three of them in an unhappy tableau.

Slowly, Aang regains control of his limbs and rises to his feet. He turns to walk deeper into the trees when Azula steps forward, her face blanched with shock, eyes flickering over him in disbelief that he’s even standing. Her smooth voice shakes a little. “Where are you going?”

His own voice sounds hollow to his ears, as if echoing outside his body. “The woods are vast, remember?”

Aang brushes past her and keeps walking, until those same woods swallow him up.

Azula turns to Katara, who stands frozen, staring at her own hands in the moonlight. Azula has heard rumors of bloodbending, but she’s never seen it firsthand. Had never imagined seeing it like this. “Well?” she prods Katara. “Go after him.”

But Katara is turning away, trudging slowly up the banks back to camp. The waterbender pauses briefly, looking into the forest shadows where Aang had disappeared. “He’ll be back.”

Azula isn’t so sure. And judging by Katara’s brittle voice, neither was she.

* * *

Back at camp Azula tends to her cuts and bruises and brews herself some tea. Katara sits looking emptily into the dying embers of their campfire. She’s healed the burns on her arms and legs, but her face is pale and desolate, her mouth slightly slack. Something in her defeated posture reminds Azula too intimately of the aftermath of a blazing courtyard under a red comet sky. She pours a second cup of tea and holds it towards the waterbender.

Katara takes it, and Azula sits across from her.

“I can heal those,” Katara says absently, gesturing at Azula’s bandaged arms.

“No thank you. I’d rather you didn’t.” Azula's words are pointed and deliberate. They sit in strained silence until Katara looks over the rim of her tea cup.

“I give up,” the waterbender says. “You won.”

“Excuse me?”

Katara laughs tiredly. “You know what I mean.”

“I have no interest in your domestic disputes, nor do I wish to be in the middle of them-,”

“I should have ended things months ago.”

The confession startles Azula into silence.

“I knew we weren’t good for each other anymore. But I just - couldn’t -,” Katara bites out, dashing tears away. “The thought of him being with someone else, being with you - of all people, _you_ -,”

Azula studies her own feet. She hadn’t set out on this trip intending to entice the Avatar away from his precious waterbender. What she feels for Aang is still too raw and potent to make sense of, but there’s something she _can_ understand. “Imagine how I felt,” Azula returns, “Seeing you stand shoulder to shoulder with my own brother.”

Katara blinks, biting back whatever she meant to say. She spares one last glance at the forest and releases a long breath. “Well, it’s over now.”

Azula says nothing. Wherever Aang has gone, for now he’s beyond their reach.

They drink their tea in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's all we have folks! We envisioned that, a few years later, Katara finds happiness with Toph, while Aang and Azula find their way to each other as well. If we feel inspired to drabble those futures, we'll be sure to post them here as a sequel. Thank you for going on this wild ride with us - we had a lot of fun writing the DRAMA and reading everyone's reviews. As always, we welcome any kudos or comments xoxox

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at us on tumblr at irresistible-revolution and [@praetorqueenreyna](https://praetorqueenreyna.tumblr.com/)! Comments and kudos always appreciated, we hope you enjoy!


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